yellow caution tape
by xfucktheglasses
Summary: I'll be your thrill. —SasuKiba/KibaKarin.


OTP OTP OTP OTP OTP

**yellow caution tape**

He's dating his godforsaken sister.

That alone was enough to make Sasuke hate him with every last drop of energy within him.

He was _dating_ his fucking sister. Like – dating her. Doing all the things that people dating do; kissing, hugging, probably fucking. Only Sasuke didn't like to think about the last part because it made him want to break the fucker's face and just destroy his existence.

It didn't help that he was his _best friend_.

Or _was_.

Sasuke didn't know anymore.

He hadn't known for a very, very long time.

It started off when he found out Kiba was dating Karin.

Sasuke punched Kiba in the face and stopped talking to his sister for a rather long while. Just because they both crossed a line that shouldn't have ever been crossed and it made Sasuke twitch and want to flip shit and possibly destroy everything in his way. It's just – disrespect. So much of it and it was driving him crazy. Best friends weren't supposed to date kid sisters of best friends.

Not.

Done.

Ever.

Now, with things between the siblings patched up, Kiba made his way to Sasuke's room and stood before him, a sly smirk tilting his lips, crookedly. "Seriously," he said, "Who're you jealous of—her, or me?"

Sasuke stared at him for a brief second before he aimed another punch at Kiba's face.

There was blood, again, much like the last time a while back.

Sasuke continued to stare at Kiba, transfixed at the blood flowing down and how it looked quite amazing on Kiba and fuck him, he hated him.

"Fix yourself," he said, low tone soft with distraction, "And get out of my face."

Kiba wiped the blood with the sleeve of his shirt, the sly smirk still on his lips. They stared at each other for a very long while.

It wasn't all that clear who shoved who against the wall, or who kissed who first.

But it happened.

Oh, it happened.

.

.

.

After that, it sort of turned into a ritual.

It was fucking bad.

It was _bad_.

Wasn't he dating his sister?

Wasn't he… Whatever with his sister?

Shit was bogus – shit was so bogus. Shit shouldn't have been happening.

But it was.

Fuck, it was.

And Sasuke was so intoxicated he couldn't really stop himself, even if he'd tried.

It'd be one thing, if it were casual. But it wasn't – it was angry. It was red, like anger and like blood. There were always glares and teeth and bites and tongue and grunts and it was _angry_. Seeing blood on Kiba was nice; seeing bruises on his throat, more prominent than the ones Karin left, was a thrill.

They did it through the car wash, once.

In the sunlight, there was a hand print obvious and glaring on the dusty glass of the car windows.

.

.

.

When the three of them sat around in the living room, together, Sasuke couldn't decide whether to smirk at the dirty secrets hissing in his ear, or glower at Karin's whispers and flirting and foreplay.

It was rather hard to depict if he was being protective or jealous, now.

Maybe it was both.

.

.

.

Sasuke sat on the window sill; everything looked better from up high, in his room on the second floor. Sitting on the windowsill, his legs dangling in the air, the threat of him slipping and falling to the ground… It was thrilling. Sasuke did always like thrills; that's why he drove the way he did—without fear, without restriction and so goddamn fast. That's why he made the choices he did; because they're not the right ones and no one should pick them, but he still does it.

That's why he fucks his sister's boyfriend.

That's why he fucks his best friend.

He smirks and brings the cigarette to his lips, stares at the road; at his car; at that handprint that was still there.

Shitson, shit was bogus.

.

.

.

It was a while later that he turned around at the sound of his door being opened.

Kiba leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at the ankles. He was grinning, lopsidedly, his dark eyes on his. Sasuke flicked him off, over his shoulder, and turned back to the scenery.

He was dragged inside and thrown on his bed a minute later. His cigarette fell, outside, in the process, and Sasuke stared up at Kiba who was looming over him. Kiba wasn't supposed to do the looming; the looming was Sasuke's thing. He loomed over anything and everything, even people that were taller than him.

He was supposed to be the one standing at the edge of the bed, looming over Kiba as he lay on the bed, elbows lifting his upper body.

But it was the other way around.

Sasuke's eyes locked with Kiba's and they remained locked as Kiba leaned forwards until they were a breath apart.

Sasuke smelt something fruity.

He stared at him.

"Your sister's perfume," Kiba purred in a taunt.

Sasuke punched him in the face and slid out of the cage.

.

.

.

Nothing happened between them for a while, after that.

Sasuke went out, a lot.

A pretty girl with bright green eyes kept grasping his attention and Kiba was just doing his thing, dating Karin, kissing Karin, probably fucking Karin.

Who knew?

Sasuke didn't.

And he didn't care.

But there came a day where Sasuke wasn't with the pretty little pixie occupying his time, and he was at home at the same time Kiba and Karin were. Not that it bothered him because it sure as hell didn't, but then Karin went off to do something that set Kiba loose and as their history, as best friends, went, he'd slip into the room and tried to chill out.

They tried to go back to normal, only they really couldn't.

There was tension and there was lust and there was something like fucked up friendships and twisted thrills dancing around them to the sound of a death march.

Sasuke paused his video game and turned to stare at Kiba who abandoned the computer to stare back at him.

It went quiet.

Nothing was said, for a while.

One more time, rang the silence and they were soon on each other. Someone was slammed against the wall – there was a grunt and Sasuke was positive Kiba just drew blood as he bit his lip.

Shirts went off.

Clothes went off.

One more time.

His hand slid down south, slowly and tortuously.

Nothing was said.


End file.
